


Why Worry About Defining Everything

by Bitterblue33



Series: Definitions [1]
Category: 13 Reasons Why (TV)
Genre: Alex Wants To Be One, Awkward Boners, Bisexual Alex Standall, Boys Kissing, Clay Goes Into His Clay-Hole, Clay Is A Good Brother, Fluid Sexuality, Justin Is A Horny Teenage Boy, M/M, justlex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-26
Updated: 2018-05-26
Packaged: 2019-05-14 01:40:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14760161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bitterblue33/pseuds/Bitterblue33
Summary: Alex gets into an awkward situation with Justin. Except Justin doesn't find it awkward.Clay finds it awkward though. Very.





	1. Pulled Apart At The Seams

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set post 2x13. Assumes all cliffhangers on the show have been resolved somehow and that both Alex/Jessica and Justin/Jessica have ended amicably. Also, Justin now has a bed in Clay's room where the couch used to be.

Alex mentally logged each time Justin’s eyes flicked his way. Glance and then away. Glance and then away. It was starting to annoy him. What was Justin’s deal?

They were seated side by side on Justin’s bed working on their history study guide. As they had done many times over the past month. Alex didn’t know why it had suddenly gotten so awkward. 

“Fuck.”

The pen that Justin had been chewing on—almost nervously, Alex thought—had popped out and landed in Alex’s lap. “Sorry, man.” Justin reached for the pen, and his hand brushed against Alex’s hip and then slid across his thigh. 

_Shit. Oh, shit._ Alex could feel his body reacting. _Not now. Fuck, not now._

Alex tried to will his dick to relax, but when had that ever worked before? His hard-on strained against his pants, and Justin’s hand paused. _Shit._ He had clearly noticed.

“Um,” Justin said.

First Zach and now Justin. Fuck his body.

He reluctantly looked up at Justin, expecting to find him laughing or, worse, recoiling. Instead, Justin was leaning in towards him, almost in stop motion, too quickly for Alex to find words. And then Justin’s lips were on his and his hands were gently cradling his face. 

What the fuck?

There was no thought. No emotion. Just instinct. Alex responded, kissing Justin back, getting lost in the kind touches and warm breath, but then, almost without intending too, his hands were pushing back. Justin immediately let go and shifted away.

“What are you doing?” Alex couldn’t help the anger that seeped through his voice.

“Sorry, fuck, I’m sorry, Alex.” Justin seemed unsure. “I thought–."

“I wasn’t coming on to you!”

“Okay.” Justin looked away quickly, his hands fidgeting on either side of his legs. “Fuck.” His cheeks were tinged red, his posture defeated. 

That was not the reaction Alex had expected. Still, it didn’t change the fact that whatever had brought it on was built on a lie.

He gritted his teeth. “I get an erection sometimes with physical contact. It didn’t mean that I was–, it happened with Zack too, okay? I’m so fucking messed up, I can’t even control my own dick. And, just so you know, you kissing me out of pity is a pretty low move!”

Justin’s head came up defiantly. His fire came rushing back. “Fuck, Alex. I wasn’t kissing you out of pity!”

“Then, why? Why would you do it?”

“I don’t know. Fuck.” Justin turned away his head, looking at Clay’s empty bed. His voice dropped, words muffled. “I think you’re cute, Standall. And we’ve been hanging out lately and I thought maybe, I don’t know, I thought that maybe you were into me.”

Alex scoffed. “Why, because nobody can resist the charms of Justin Foley?”

“Fuck you, Alex!” Justin got up from the bed and stood, an inscrutable emotion on his face. But, he also didn’t move away. “I didn’t mean to piss you off. Or to assume anything.” 

Alex stared at him in disbelief. Justin was a piece of work. Making excuses so that poor, pitiful Alex wouldn’t have to feel bad about one more messed up thing his body had done. But. . . Alex had to admit that this didn’t seem in character for Justin. Justin usually called it as he saw it, and often that meant insensitive, crude admissions. No pulled punches. No pity.

Alex shifted awkwardly. He reached out his weak hand to gently tug Justin’s sleeve. Justin gazed down at him, his eyes soft and wet. Alex almost let go of his sleeve. A vulnerable Justin Foley was a dangerous thing. It was also hard to resist. And fuck if in that moment, Alex didn’t _want_ to kiss Justin, to pull him down and see if this could truly be a thing. 

So he did. He pulled a little harder on Justin’s sleeve, and Justin slowly sat down beside him, waiting, Alex realized, to see what Alex would do next.

Alex flicked his eyes down to his pants. As expected, right when he began to genuinely feel something emotionally, his body responded by going cold. His hard-on had gone. He flicked his eyes to his left. Justin’s face was so close now, and he could smell the Jensens' shampoo, see the flecks in Justin’s irises. 

Justin was quiet and still. It didn’t look like he was going to make a move. Well, Alex was no longer a tentative person—couldn’t let himself be after nearly losing it all—and so he smashed his lips onto Justin’s. The kiss was awkward at first, not coordinated, or sensual, but then Justin was hesitantly responding and then quickly taking control, his lips caressing, his tongue tenderly licking Alex’s lips. 

Alex began to fall backward and so Justin maneuvered their bodies as Alex fell so that they were lying side by side. Justin reached behind Alex, using Alex’s back as leverage to pull his own body flush. 

“Is this okay?” Justin murmured. 

“Yeah, it’s okay.” Alex brought his lips back to Justin’s. It wasn’t long before he was lost in the movement of their lips, of Justin’s shiny eyes, of the feel of a hard, well-toned body against his, of Alex’s own breath that was stuttering in and out with need, with want.

Suddenly, he felt something move against his thigh. Justin’s dick.

Justin nuzzled his neck. “See, Standall, it’s not pity,” he murmured, voice heavy with arousal. “God, you’re so fucking beautiful.”

Alex pushed gently, so that he could look into Justin’s eyes. They were no longer wet. They were confident and enticing, pupils blown. 

“My dick’s not hard,” Alex confessed. Better to lay it all out there. “But it’s not because I’m not interested. I think you’re fucking hot, and I would totally have sex with you.”

Justin laughed. “Geez Standall.” He pulled him in, kissing his neck, his lower body rutting against Alex’s thighs. The little noises of pleasure Justin made was so much better than any of the porn Alex had tried in vain to jack off to. 

Slowly, Justin stopped moving. “Sorry,” he murmured into Alex’s neck. He sounded embarrassed.

“It’s definitely okay.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, more than okay.” 

Justin’s attention went back to his lips, tangling his body up in Alex’s, his hands gripping Alex’s back, fingers clenching in the fabric of his shirt, somehow both restrained and desperate. 

Alex felt his mind haze. He didn’t know when he had last felt so alive.

Justin’s hips slowed. Alex awkwardly angled his own body to push against Justin’s dick, trying to provide enough pressure to get him off.

“I can’t tell you how much I wish I were hard right now,” he whispered.

Justin exhaled sharply, his body trembling. Then he pulled back.

Fuck. Did Alex just mess this up?

Justin bit his lip and then moved his hips backward. “Fuck Alex, I didn’t mean to move so fast.” He scooted Alex back against the wall, releasing his left hand and gripping Alex’s hair playfully. “We can work up to more.”

Alex laughed, a little bitter. “Physical therapy?”

“Sure, if you want to call it that.” Justin’s grin was devilish. 

Alex smiled. “Come back here,” he told Justin and Justin obliged, his lips peppering Alex’s cheeks, his forehead, his nose, and then finally his mouth.

Minutes passed, neither logged nor acknowledged, as Alex let himself go in the soft warmth of Justin Foley.

“Jesus Christ!”

Clay?!

Alex jerked in surprise, hitting his head against the wall. Justin, like a shot, flipped himself over and pushed up on his elbows, looking towards the bedroom door. He quickly turned back at Alex’s cry of pain and helped him sit up. “Shit, Alex, sorry,” he murmured, shooting a glare at the room’s new occupant.

Alex looked up to see Clay, who was stock still, his mouth opening and closing as if were trying to find words. Alex hadn’t even heard the door open.

God, he did not want to deal with this. 

He quickly scooted forward, firmly pushing away Justin’s attempt to help, got his feet under him, and reached for his cane.

“Hey Alex,” Clay finally managed, shifting his weight.

Alex ignored him and started out of the room without looking at Justin.

“See you, Clay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any Alex/Justin shippers still around? ;)
> 
> Part 2 is about Clay and Justin so feel free to skip if you’re just here for the Alex/Justin. :)


	2. Set Theory

“See you, Clay.” 

“See you, Alex.” Clay tried to sound composed, as if he had just walked into math class and seen Alex and Justin leaving their desks. After doing math. Geometry. Trigonometry. Set theory. 

Union and intersection. 

Jesus.

What even was his life? 

“Bye, Alex,” Justin called cockily from the bed. Alex didn’t acknowledge the words. He was already shuffling down the stairs. Justin didn’t seem to mind as he pulled a comic book from the desk and flopped back onto his bed.

Clay stared at him for a minute. Two. Three. Surely Justin was going to say something? But Justin seemed to be absorbed in the comic book, probably oblivious to the fact that Clay was waiting for some explanation. 

Asshole. That was unacceptable.

“Did Alex ask you for kissing tips or something?”

Justin smirked, not even glancing up. “Why? You want me to give you some?”

Clay spluttered. “No. Definitely not! No. Not that I’m–. I mean, I’m sure you’re a great kisser–” Smooth Clay, real smooth. Justin eyed him, attention finally diverted. His smug face offended Clay.

Fuck, and now Clay was thinking about Hannah. A subject which, when it came to Justin, always sort of pissed him off. Made him want to punch Justin in the face, on principle. But he was trying to be better, given that Justin would soon be his brother, and he did actually like him, more than he ever thought possible, not that he would admit it. He turned his mind back to the matter at hand. To the point. “Are you and Alex together?“

“Together? What, like boyfriends?” Justin laughed, as if this were all a joke. “No, we’re not anything.”

“Okay, cool.” Clay struggled to find another reasonable explanation, now that the most obvious one had been refuted. “So–” He had nothing. “Okay, so you thought making out with Alex would be a good way to pass the time?” Hell, anything was possible with Justin.

Justin fixed him with an incredulous stare. “Jesus, Jensen, you look like your brain is going to explode. What’s it to you?”

“Nothing man, forget it.” He sat down on his bed, scooting his back up against the wall. Did Justin do things like this just to fuck with him? 

Justin huffed and threw the comic book down on the bed. “Are you seriously going to sulk about this, Jensen? Look, me and Alex–, I don’t know what it is. It’s just new.”

“Okay. How new?”

“Like as of 20 minutes ago.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.”

“Okay, so, you’re bisexual?”

“Bisexual? The fuck, Jensen? I don’t fucking know.” 

“You do know what bisexual means, don’t you?” 

“Yes, Clay, I’m not an idiot.” He paused. “But I’m not that.”

Clay tried to show his support by nodding enthusiastically. “Okay, okay, that’s cool. But, like, have you ever kissed a guy before?“

“Clay, are you fucking serious?”

“What? Forgive me for trying to wrap my brain around the fact that I thought you were kind of ridiculously, enthusiastically heterosexual, like excessively so, I might add. And then I walk into our room and you and Alex are all wrapped up in each other like– like if I had come in here five minutes later, I would’ve been–”

“Hot and bothered?”

“No, Jesus.” 

Justin was laughing. 

“Fuck you.” But Clay couldn’t help but laugh a little himself. “Scarred,” he decided. “That’s what I would be. Didn’t we agree about putting a rubber band or a sock or something on the door–?”

Justin shrugged his shoulders. “In my defense, I wasn’t expecting it to happen.” 

He looked flustered, then self-congratulatory, then wistful. After a minute, he sighed softly. “I like girls okay. Like a lot. _A lot._ But Alex is–, I don’t know. He’s sensitive and he doesn’t give a fuck about how messed up I am, and he also doesn’t put up with my crap either. Things happened, and he looked really beautiful. And he was into it. So–“ Justin waved his hands. No explanation necessary. Yeah, Clay had seen what had come next.

“Okay, yeah, I guess. Makes sense.” Except it didn’t to Clay. Not really. But hey, if Alex was into it, and Justin was into it, then Clay would have to add it as just another one of the unexpected things he had discovered about Justin. There had been many. It was nice to add a pleasant one to the list.

Clay stomach suddenly rolled. Fuck, what if this was as shocking for Justin as it was for him? Had Clay made it too big of a deal? Had he made it sound like it wasn’t conceivable, like it wasn’t right for Justin and Alex to be. . . whatever they were? But shit, Justin knew Tony was his best friend. Right?

God, he sucked at this whole brother thing.

“Justin?”

“What?” Yeah, Justin was definitely irritated now.

“You know I don’t care, right?”

“About?”

“Oh my God, what have we been talking about for the last five minutes, you idiot? You and Alex. If it becomes a thing, it’s cool. I support you. 100%. I think it’s great. Yep.” 

Justin groaned. “You are such a fucking pussy, Jensen. I wasn’t really asking you.”

“Yeah, I know.” Clay collapsed backward on his bed, burrowing his head into his pillow. Why did a simple conversation with Justin have to be so exhausting?

He heard Justin’s bed creak slightly.

“Thanks, Clay.” Justin’s voice was softer than it had been before. 

Maybe he hadn’t fucked things up after all.

“Sure.” 

But, suddenly, a new concern intruded. “Just—not on my bed, Justin.”

No response.

“I’m serious, Justin. Justin? Do you hear me? Not on my bed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Clay is so dramatic. This is a fact. And he’s also a little self-absorbed when it comes to things that really don’t concern him, but his heart’s in the right place, and he is a precious puppy. Anyway, I really like the idea of a sexually fluid Justin who doesn’t feel a need to label it??? Also, I like Justin/Jessica and Alex/Jessica and Alex/Zach too; I’m just kind of weak for Alex/Justin. 
> 
> This chapter was originally going to be part of the Clay & Justin brothership fic I’m working on, but I just couldn’t not write the Alex/Justin scene so I decided to spin it off into this little two-shot because I want to make my brother fic mostly pairing neutral.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!


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